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“From the kiddie camp.”
My neck snapped up to see her enter her room again. “I love this,” I said, pointing down to it. “Can you make a copy for me?”
An amused smile touched her lips. “You can have that one. My dad has a bunch. One from every summer.”
“No shit.” That was amazing. I wanted them all.
“Yeah. They're kind of fun to look at. You can tell the years we were more friends and the years we couldn’t stand each other,” she said with a laugh.
“We always secretly liked each other though,” I said. At least, I always held a candle for her.
“True,” she bit her lip, and my heart kinda swelled hearing her confirm it too.
I laughed and shook my head, kind of overwhelmed by disbelief.
“What?” she inquired.
“I dreamed of this place,” I told her, gesturing to her room around us. “I feel very accomplished right now.” My face split into a shit-eating-grin. How many nights did I dream of riding my bike to her house and throwing rocks up at her window like some kinda fuckin Romeo?
“You did not,” she challenged, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Did too,” I said matter-of-factly. “I knew your favorite color was black, but for some reason I always pictured it pink. Can’t believe I was right about that.”
She looked around. “My dad painted it pink when he found out I was a girl… and even though I never liked pink, I thought that was sweet, so I never re-did it.”
I scrubbed a hand through my hair and paused. I forgot I buzzed it off.
She saw my face falter. She threw her head back and howled with laugher. “You hate it!” she yelled triumphantly. “You shotyourselfin the foot!” she said, pointing an accusing finger at me.
I tried to school myself to keep a straight face. “That’s it,” I warned. I reached to grab her waist, but she was quicker. She ran and jumped up on her bed where I couldn’t reach her, cackling with laugher as she went.
I shook my head at her and clenched my jaw to stop myself from laughing, but I was having a hard time. She had a point. I didn’t plan on doing that when I walked in her house, but I was seeing red and just mad at her for doing something to herself because of my dumb actions… I just wanted to turn the tables on her.
She was jumping on the bed triumphantly like a gloating child.
“Okay, but now you see what I mean, right? I don’t want you to do anything to yourself just because of me.”
“Duke Michael Callahan, are you giving me a lecture on impulsivity?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Is this the same number 14 who the whole city of Detroit has a calm down sign for?”
She had a point. I struggled to keep a straight face. “Point taken, but what if I mess up again? Are you going to dye your hair blue?” I asked as I made my way to her bed.
“Maybe!” she said, still laughing. “And maybe I’d like that. You can’t tell me what to do, Duke!”
I placed my hands on her bed and dropped my head down, finally giving in to the laughing. “That is not the point I’m trying to make,” I said, looking up at her. “If you want to do it, fucking go for it, girl.” I shook my head and let out a deep sigh. “What am I gonna do with you, Kessel?”
She came closer and looped her arms around my neck. “Anything, everything,” she said dreamily.
And that sounded like a damn good plan to me.
I grabbed her waist, pulled her against my chest, and laid her back on her bed. I climbed over her trailed kisses up her neck, thanking God that it was finally our time.
We would’ve probably stayed cuddling in her bed for the rest of the day– me laying down flat with her sprawled out on top of me, but her stomach started making some weird noises.
“Someone’s hungry,” I said with a chuckle.
She scrunched her face. “Nah, not really actually.”
I looked at her skeptically. “Well, your stomach sounds hella hungry, girl. You still love take-out Chinese food as much as you used to?”
